The Stitched Coven

One ; java concoction

There comes a time in everyone's lives where days become so repetitive, so pointless, actually, that the routines taking up each day fall into endless cycles, simple cycles. Weeks can end up passing by without any real, fresh excitement—fresh, being used to define a new and different type of excitement that can't compare to the free coffee that I got for getting the 6th stamp on my Dunkin card. The train shook as it took a slight turn and I made sure to raise my hand a bit to avoid spilling any of it on the woman in front of me. Judging from her white, frilled blouse, I could only guess it was expensive and that I didn't have that type of money to pay for it if it were to get stained. Unlike a lot of young adults living in the city, each of them yearning for a way to escape the homeless at every corner and constantly wishing there was enough parking, I was fine living in the dirty, insomniac city.

A man started to cough relentlessly near the doors and I knew that we were close to the next stop once everyone started shifting towards him, whether they wanted to or not, because no one liked to be late in the city. Still, being late in the city couldn't be helped, and that's because the trains and buses ran on the time the railroads and streets wanted. For me, public transportation wasn't something I considered a luxury, but it was always there and out of convenience it saved me a lot of cash. Any broke college student could agree to that.

"Next stop, Hemming Way," the voice announced through the speaker. I glanced up and began to follow the crowd when the train lurched to a stop. I wasn't in a rush, so I could avoid the man coughing up phlegm at my own pace.

"Excuse me—"

"Get out of the way!"

"Does anyone know when the Red Line is coming?!"

I side-stepped and made sure to keep my backpack close as I shuffled to exit the subway, making a sharp left when the wind cut at the side of my face. This late October weather wasn't active below street level. The blessing, if I could consider it a blessing, was that I was only a block away from my destination, so whatever pain the wind brought was only temporary. I could deal with that.

I worked at a coffee shop that wasn't really meant for regulars, but a handful of customers kept coming back because of how quiet it could be even in rush hours. The shop was bought by one of my professor's siblings and— him being new to the whole business of owning a shop in general— asked for a few students who needed jobs; a quick employment opportunity. Like I said, a broke college student saw this as a convenience.

Pushing the door open with my free hand, the door bells jingled and I stepped inside, waving at Joey and Carmen who were on the other side of the bar. They were in the middle of arguing—I could tell by the way Carmen had her hand tangled up in the front of Joey's shirt.

"Don't wrinkle it," I warned them, walking by to get into the backroom. They were off each other in seconds like magnets repelling and hurried over to catch up with me. I shrugged off my thin coat and started to pull brown apron over my head, putting my coffee down on the locker shelf in front of me. Carmen and Joey watched me from the doorway in case any customers came in looking for a warm but not so delicious drink to get them by.

"Look at her, still buying coffee from other shops when she can get them here for free." Joey shook his head, disappointed.

Carmen shrugged, swishing her own cup around. "I can't really blame her."

I raised coffee in salute and she grinned. I didn't know if she was grinning in agreement or because I was ready to take over so she could go home, but to make myself feel better, I chose to think that she was agreeing and moved out the way when she started to get ready to leave.

"The espresso machine is all clean, by the way," Joey said to no one in particular. I tried not to frown. That meant that the day had been dead, and now I had nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon. If I didn't have anything to do, I got anxious and just itched for the day to end. Usually, cleaning the espresso was enough to get me by, and now I had nothing.